


rejecting your love.

by TheUltimateMomFriend



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Crude Humor, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, More angst, Non-Binary Sleep | Remy Sanders, Overdose, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Sypmathetic Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Vomit, did i mention the angst yet?, implied/referenced eating disorder, self-deprecation, suicide note, tell me if i missed any warnings please and thank you!!, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 02:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19802437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltimateMomFriend/pseuds/TheUltimateMomFriend
Summary: When Patton Hues met Roman Esposito, he expected the man to leave behind many things. His legacies, his dreams, his accomplishments, his wills. He didn’t expect the only thing left of Roman to be a note.





	rejecting your love.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Snow in Venice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098545) by [patentpending](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patentpending/pseuds/patentpending). 



> So, uh... yeah. I’ve just been feeling... really really bad lately? Like nothing has really happened I’ve just been feeling bad. And I guess I just really wanted to vent and project about it because I’ve seen a lot of people doing that and maybe people reading my stuff, my feelings, will help me feel better. I’m not sure. Also apparently I really like projecting onto Roman, oops. He’s my favorite character, and, after all, I tend to hurt my favorite characters the most.
> 
> Also! This is my first time writing a story from Patton’s perspective, so it may be a little OOC. I’m trying to get everyone’s personalities down with the point of the vent still being there, but apparently it’s a lot harder than I thought. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated, but not needed. Mostly I just want to get my feelings out in the hopes that maybe I’ll feel better, so you don’t really need to ask me if it’s okay or tell me to go get help, because don’t worry, I’m not going to try anything. I have no plans for suicide, trust me. As long as I can help it, I’m not going anywhere. Speaking of that, if you feel the same way Roman does, you should really get help. It may seem impossible, but not only are you loved, but you have every reason to be loved.
> 
> With that said, please enjoy (though it may be hard to enjoy something that’s pretty angst, whoops)!
> 
> Bonus: *slaps roof of roman* you can fit so much self projection in here!

They met, for the first time, in school.

Of course, that was to be expected, considering the first time they met Patton was a sophomore and Roman was a freshman, but still. They did meet in a school. It counts!

They met, for the first time, in school.

It had been a fairly ordinary day, as most days were, and all days were expected to be. Patton’s younger brother (who was a freshman now, could you believe it? His baby brother was a freshman in high school!), Virgil, had been talking about this one kid in his class who would not stop teasing him no matter what he did. Patton knew Virgil hadn’t been the most popular kid in middle school, but given how they both were hoping that Virgil could make more friends in middle school, Patton was not happy. He remembered finally getting a name out of Virgil and storming up to the person, who had... well, had mostly regarded him as a joke as first and didn’t want to apologize. Fine. If that was how he wanted to play. He’d use his _Ultimate Patton Hues Secret Weapon._

No one could resist his puppy dog eyes, and Roman Esposito was no exception.

They continued to meet in school. Time continued with them.

The two eventually became friends after Roman “apologized” (but the teasing didn’t quite stop, even if it dwindled down a little), but not quite, not truly. One of Patton’s other friends, Logan Acharya, also met the other two, and seemed to like them a fair amount. They got along fairly well for two years, with some occasional fights, but overall, they were happy.

Patton should have known Virgil wasn’t. 

It was, for him, completely unexpected. Of course, Patton should have seen it coming, he’s known Virgil for almost all of his life, Virgil is his _brother how did he not **see it-**_ but he digresses. Virgil was there, on a ledge, overlooking the beautiful sky. _[Later, Virgil tells him he wanted that to be the spot because he felt it was peaceful, how he felt it was right, somehow. Now, of course, he knows better, but he was right about something: it was incredibly peaceful.]_ No words, no sentences, no paragraphs or pages of writing could explain the chilling fear that Patton felt seeing him there. He instantly, instinctively stepped forward, reaching out his hand, calling out to him, but Logan stopped him. Virgil turned his head, likely hearing the noise, and looked back at their concerned faces. He stepped backward, inching closer to the ledge, the misstep that could end his life in seconds. There were tears in his eyes, and he wiped them away, mascara staining his hoodie. 

Patton was crying too, but he didn’t bother wiping the wetness away. There were more important things at hand. He called out again to Virgil, adding a small “please” to the end of his sentence, and whimpered when his brother took one more step closer to the edge. He begged him not to do it, said how much he loved him and needed him, how they all needed him. Logan agreed, and even Roman (who had been silent up until that point) voiced his opinion. Eventually, Virgil simply broke down into tears and ran towards Patton, hugging him tightly and collapsing. 

“Shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay, we’re okay.” Patton soothed, burying his face is Virgil’s messy hair. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Virgil eventually went to a therapist for it, and Patton was thankful. He didn’t want that to happen again to any of his friends, he didn’t want to risk him not being able to convince them to live. Roman seemed especially guilty about the whole thing, and despite how much the others tried to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, how even if it was it turned out okay, he didn’t seem to believe them.

They continued to meet in school. Time continued with them.

By now, Patton was about ending his junior year (along with Logan, who had skipped a grade), and Virgil and Roman were almost done with their sophomore years. Summer was when Patton began catching feelings (which was strange, he had always been more of a thrower than a catcher, but not in this case, he supposed), or at least, he began noticing changing feelings for Roman. Before senior year began, he got roses (they were Roman’s favorite flowers, although he didn’t like the thorns) for him and asked him if he wanted to go to homecoming with him, holding out the bouquet and looking anywhere but Roman’s face. To his great surprise and joy, Roman accepted.

He _accepted._

They danced and danced and had a great time, and Patton still says it was one of the best days of his life. _[He wants nothing more than to be able to have those types of days with the love of his life again, and even if he knows his wishes are never going to come true, it doesn’t stop him from **wanting.]**_ They began going out after that, and became official boyfriends after the third date. The two lovers dated happily for about a year, and Roman came to Patton’s graduation. Thankfully, Patton was going to an art college that was a little over an hour away, so they visited each other each weekend and called each other every night before bed. It was clear to everyone around them that they were hopelessly in love, and Virgil and Logan eventually formed a QPR.

Time went on, as time does, and suddenly Patton was attending Roman’s senior graduation, happily looking at his boyfriend as he got his diploma. The joy and excitement on his face had been worth the hours of pretty much nothing happening, and there was barely a moment of higher joy that Patton had felt when he say Roman’s wide smile and how his boyfriend (his boyfriend! He would never get used to saying that) threw his arms around the older boy. At that moment, Patton understood why people had always told him that they were suffocating whenever he hugged them, due to how tightly his boyfriend’s _(aaaaa!)_ arms were wrapped around him. Roman apologized profusely, of course, and Patton said it was fine.

They hung out at Logan’s house afterwards, since his was unmistakably the best (Roman’s always seemed so… dull, due to his parents almost never being around, and Patton’s and Virgil’s was incredibly small, albeit homely). Roman and Virgil were still almost buzzing from excitement (or in Virgil’s case, endless anxieties), while Patton and Logan were reading. Roman had asked for a kiss from Patton, who was too busy laying down in a puddle of blankets to move.

“Sorry, kiddo, the quilt dimension has called me and I have answered.”

“But Patton, I will surely die if I do not receive a true love’s kiss at this very moment! Please please pleaaaase!” (‘Then perish,’ Logan muttered under his breath, and Virgil looked at him with so much surprise and horror that he was forced to return his gaze to his book.)

“You'll have to get up and kiss me then, Roman.”

“Well I can't move!”

“I guess you'll just have to die then, kiddo.” He still blew a kiss to him, just in case.

Roman groaned. Virgil, nightmare that he was, grinned. “This is so sad, Alexa!”

Roman shot up like a broom that someone stepped on. “Don't you dare.”

“-play Es-pa-see-to!”

Roman’s groans got louder. “That isn't even how you say it, you heathen!” Patton smiled. He loved his family.

Time when on, as time does.

The last three years of college went by in almost a blur. Colours and hues (ha) painted his vision, Roman’s voice talking to him nearly every night rang happily in his ears, and soft fluffy blankets became a constant contact when he slept (at least half of them were from Roman). They tried to visit each other at least once every weekend; some visits being big, extravagant dinners and dates, while others were simply hanging out with each other, talking about their week while sitting on the grass from a nearby park. Others, still, were sometimes staying the night, and occasionally something a little less innocent, but we won't get into _that_ right now. What happens in Vegas (or in this case, in a college dorm room with two lovers) stays in Vegas.

Time went on, as time does.

Patton’s graduation from college was one of the happiest days of his life, which was strange, considering the fact that he couldn't remember most of it. Time flies when you're having fun, he supposed. Roman had been there, of course, as had Virgil and Logan, as well as several friends Patton had made at his part-time job. He remembered a lot of hugs, numerous flowers and cards from his family, and several pictures being taken. That was pretty much it. He collapsed on Roman’s bed the moment they entered his dorm room. 

The months leading up to Roman’s graduation were fast. Patton had gotten a full time job as an art teacher, which allowed him to rent a small house a few months out of college. Roman’s grades had been getting a bit worse, but at the time Patton had assumed it was because of the increasingly difficult learning program _[oh how wrong he was]._ He still made it through though, thankfully. They moved in together, and Logan and Virgil began sharing a small apartment shortly after. They all were happy. 

Patton should have known that Roman wasn't. 

Time went on, as it mercilessly does.

It was two years after Roman’s graduation that Patton began noticing his lover’s self esteem getting worse.

Of course, he had always known that at least some of Roman’s grand personality had been a front, and Patton knew what it was like to hide one’s true feelings. He knew how difficult it could be to talk to people about it, especially without being prompted, so he took it upon himself to ask about it.

“Roman?”

“Yes, dear?”

“...”

“Patton?”

“Are you… okay?”

Roman went silent, surprise splattered across his face, before a wide smile spread across his face (had they always looked that fake?). “Of course, dearest Patton. I am doing absolutely splendidly!”

“Roman-”

“Oh, wow, that's a pretty butterfly!” And he refused to talk about it for the rest of the day.

Perhaps Roman was okay. Perhaps Patton was simply overreacting. Perhaps Virgil’s anxious personality had rubbed off on him. Perhaps nothing was wrong with Roman and he was telling the truth.

That's what Patton had thought, at least, until he saw the notebook.

Roman’s notebook was something he had had for a few years, since the summer after graduation. Patton had never seen him write in it, so he had assumed that he just never used it. However, he found himself being proved wrong when he was cleaning Roman’s bookshelf while the other was preparing a surprise dinner. Scribbles of not being good enough, of not deserving love, of wishes that he had never been born in the first place littered the pages, some parts of them wrinkled as if they had been wet with droplets of water while Roman was writing it. As if he had been crying while writing it. 

How long _had_ he been writing-

His thoughts were interrupted as Roman sang that dinner was ready, that it was his favorite: spaghetti. He even made garlic bread and chocolate chunk cookies! Patton quickly stuffed the journal back into the bookshelf, feeling very much like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, in a cookie making factory, with his pants down, and they're on fire.

Yeah, he really needed to stop hanging out with his coworker, Janus, so much. Whatever, the shelf looked clean enough, and Roman said so when he came in the room. “What can I say?” Patton replied nervously, vowing to ask Roman about the notebook at dinner. “I'm a shelf shtarter!” Roman just laughed, oblivious to Patton’s inner turmoil and horror.

It wasn't as if he didn't try to talk to Roman. It was just, his lover wanted to watch a movie, and Patton had never really been good at saying ‘no’ to him. He tried asking him about it once the movie was done, but by that point it as nearly midnight and they were both tired. He kept trying to talk about the journal, but each time, something would distract them. 

Finally, after about a week, Patton had had enough. “Roman, you need to listen to me.” Of course, he immediately stilled at the seriousness in Patton’s voice. “I saw your notebook.” Roman’s eyes widened. “I know, it was a violation of privacy, and I am sorry. But… Roman, are you really okay? _Really truly_ okay?”

Roman looked down, silent aside from a loud swallow. When he spoke, his voice was wobbly. “Yes, Patton, I am... _okay._ That was just for a writing project, okay?”

“... Was it? Was it really?”

“Yes, I-”

"Because in it, you said how guilty you felt about the nicknames you called your best friends, Virgil and Logan, and how you weren't good enough for your boyfriend, Patton, and what a useless writer you were. Unless these happen to be coincidences paralleling your real life, I highly doubt that this was for a project with fictional characters, Roman.” 

“Patton, I- I-” For all his extensive words and creativity, Roman’s tongue couldn't create a good excuse to weasel himself out of this situation. Instead he wound up looking more like a deer in headlights, before his shoulders slumped in defeat and he began shaking all over.

Patton's eyes softened, despite the fact that he knew Roman couldn't see them. “I'm going to take you to Virgil's therapist, Doctor Picani, okay? He's a fun guy, I think you'd love him. When do you want to meet him?”

Roman looked up, eyelashes sticking together wetly and mouth trembling to keep himself from whimpering more. In fact, his entire body was trembling. He sighed shakily. “I- I think a week would be good, may- maybe?” Patton smiled gently, pulling Roman's head into his lap. Roman had always loved his hair being played with.

“Okay. We'll go check it out in a week.” They stuck together like that for at least an hour. Patton's legs had fallen asleep, but he found himself not caring. “Hey Roman?”

When he received no response, Patton was sure his boyfriend had fallen asleep along with his legs. He was apparently mistaken, as Roman's soft voice spoke up. “Yes?” His eyes looked so very tired, so Patton bent down and kissed the area between them, smiling wider as Roman squealed.

“I'm proud of you. You're so brave, honey.”

Roman smiled back, closing his eyes. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

They fell asleep like that. Of course, Patton found himself running late for work, but looking at the man he loved still sleeping soundly in his lap, he couldn't bring himself to move. He called in sick. Hopefully, his students would understand.

Time went on, as time does.

Roman had been prescribed some medications by Picani a few months into therapy. They seemed to get along well together, which Patton was incredibly thankful for. He wanted his boyfriend to be happy, more than anything else.

Work had been going well. None of Roman’s stories had hit it big, but he still managed to publish a few and make some money, which he confessed to Picani that getting paid helped him feel like less of a burden, so his self esteem at least seemed to be going up. Patton’s students were alright, and one nearly cried when xe graduated. Apparently his classes liked him. He knew this, but he was somewhat gladdened by the reminder anyways.

They had been getting better, closer, and Patton realized that he wanted to take their relationship one step further. Roman liked rubies, right? Yes, Roman had told him on one of their first dates that his favorite gemstone was the ruby. The ring turned out to be expensive, but if Roman was ready to spend the rest of his life with him then it would all be worth it. Even if he wasn't ready, Patton could wait forever if it meant Roman was happy.

They had planned the perfect date. A night out seeing Hamilton (boy were those tickets hard to come by) before going out somewhere nice to eat, and finally walking through the park near their house to gaze at the stars. It had been the perfect night for the perfect couple, and they had been holding ring-less hands while strolling through the park. They probably guessed all the stars wrong and mispronounced each constellation, but they were having fun.

“Patton,” Roman began, slowing to a stop. “I think I should say something. I, I really, really love you, you know that? I love the way you laugh whenever someone makes a joke, the way you bring happiness with you wherever you go, the way you are just- just- you're sunshine and rainbows and flowers! And, since we know that I'm a star, the sun and star are simply meant to be together!” He knelt down on his knee, and Patton stopped breathing. He was not about to do what he thought he was about to do. 

Pulling out a ring, Roman flashed a beautiful but _real_ smile at his boyfriend. “Patton, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me? A prince, after all, needs a suitor, but this one is one he has chosen.” 

Roman was expecting many things. Running, yelling, crying, rejection, and, if he was lucky, ‘yes’ were all some of them.

Patton breaking into laughter was not.

His smile became far more nervous as the joyful giggles continued, confusion and fear certainly painting his face. Patton must have noticed, because it was clear that he tried to suppress his laughing at the vulnerable look on his boyfriend’s (soon to be fiance’s) face. “Yes, Roman! Yes yes yes a million times! In fact,” he dug quickly in his pocket, trying to find something, before pulling out a navy blue box. “I even got your ring ready.”

Roman stared in shock, looking in Patton’s eyes as if he were trying to figure out if this was some joke. When he realized it wasn't, it was his turn to break out into laughter, doubling over until he was short of breath. The couple was still huffing with joy as they out the ring on each other’s fingers.

The fiances burst into Logan and Virgil’s apartment, declaring that they were going to have a grand wedding next spring, and that they wanted Logan to marry them and for Virgil to be Patton’s best man (Roman’s younger twin brother, Remus, had already filed to be Roman’s best man, and though the brother required an… _acquired_ taste, Roman still loved him, even if he would never admit it.).

The night, out of all of the ones Patton has ever lived through, is the best one yet. It would have been the wedding day, but although Roman and Patton were fiances, they never got the chance to be husbands.

Time went on, and more than anything, Patton wished he could reverse it to that first homecoming dance, when things were simpler and happier, or perhaps just a few hours before that day in February. Time is cruel, though, and refuses to bend to our desires. It simply goes on without a care in the world, and those who are opposed to this fact must simply deal with it.

Roman had been getting worse.

Patton knew it. Roman knew it. Picani knew it, what with him requesting more common therapy sessions. Even Virgil and Logan seemed to have some idea about it, even if they didn't visit that often.

Despite Roman's knowledge of his lowering self esteem, he refused to acknowledge it. He said he was fine, painted on a smile every day of his life, hoping no one would be blue to see the original underneath the fake. After all, he liked acting, didn't he? He could play the part until the part played him. Fake it until you make it.

Patton knew better, though.

Roman said he was fine. The missed meals and baggier clothes (even though Patton knew he hadn't bought any new shirts) said otherwise. Roman said he was fine. The disappearing knives, scissors, forks from the cupboards said otherwise. Roman said he was fine. The sleeves that were growing increasingly longer said otherwise.

Roman said he was fine. The full bottle of pills (even though he was supposed to take one pill a week, and he hadn't gotten them refilled since their engagement) said otherwise.

Patton knew something was up, whether it be the jig or the sky or whatever didn't matter. Something was going on with Roman, and unfortunately, Roman seemed adamant on not talking about this thing that was up. Patton had tried, but whenever the subject of Roman’s mental and physical health came up, he became suddenly deaf until the subject was changed. 

Patton wanted desperately to be there for him, to help him. But he knew from personal experience that you can't be helped if you don't want to be helped. Roman would have to come to him in his own time. All he needed to do was wait.

And so he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Patton’s patience had been his first mistake. Roman’s stubbornness had been one of his last.

Time went on, as time does, and Patton desperately wishes he at least could have gotten to have the big memory day with Roman be their wedding rather than a funeral.

It was 11:04 AM, February 21, Tuesday when Patton got the call. He remembers everything vividly. He had been wearing his usual polo, complete with his cat onesie Logan had gifted him a couple years prior. He had woken up at 5 AM, which was earlier than usual, but he laid in bed for another thirty minutes before he had gotten up. He'd made pancakes for breakfast, and Roman groggily came out of their room at the smell. They decorated their breakfast with strawberries and whipped cream before Patton had to head out. Virgil and Logan were planning on visiting later anyways, and he needed to go to school. If he had known it would be the last time he'd be able to talk to Roman, he would have stayed longer, would have never left.

The day had gone by normally up until 11:04, and at that time Patton had just begun teaching his sophomore class about perspectives in art. His phone vibrated (he always lived by the rule of silent phones, especially if his students had to have theirs on silent), and he ignored it. He was almost done with the lesson, he could check it once he was done. It continued to ring for the next five minutes. 

Eventually the class understood the lesson and he could let them draw, so he checked his phone. Huh, all calls from Virgil. That was weird, Virgil never called him. He preferred texting because it was easier with his anxiety…

Patton answered, expecting nothing much, perhaps a question about which food to bring faster than normal. “Hey Verge, what's-”

“Pat- Patton, oh my God, you need- you need to get to the hos- hospital right now-”

“What's wrong? What happened?” Patton sat up. Most of his students had looked up at him due to the panic in his voice, but he paid them no mind. “Did something happen to Logan?”

“No- Logan he's- he's fine- it's, he's driving us there right now, but you just- you need to go to the hospital, _please.”_

“Virgil, you need to take deep breaths and tell me what's going on, okay? In four, hold-”

 _“Don't worry about me!_ I'm fine! Just- please! Just trust me, I don't- I don't wanna have to tell you-”

“Can you give the phone to Logan?”

“...Alright.”

There was a sound of a phone being handed over. When Logan spoke, his voice didn't have the normal calm it always did. “Hello, Patton.”

“Logan, please, just tell me what's going on.”

Logan seemed hesitant. “Roman, he- he-”

_“Logan.”_

“Roman overdosed!”

Time stopped, as time does when one learns horrible news.

There was a clatter as Patton realized that he dropped his phone. He didn't care about the glass on the floor though. He needed to get to the hospital. The sophomores seemed worried. “Stay- stay here, I have to, I have to go-”

And he walked out of the room and right to his car. He didn't care if he was fired.

He drove there in about ten minutes, going well over the speed limit. Logan and Virgil were already at the hospital, waiting for him. He had a deadly calm, he had one objective. 

They sat in Roman’s room for a quarter of an hour, ignoring the flow of nurses and doctors and the beeping of machines, deciding to focus on Roman’s blank face. It looked like he was sleeping, but Patton knew it was nowhere near that innocent. The beeping of a heart monitor got louder, louder, until it was drowning out all noise. It stopped beeping after a bit, instead simply having one long continuous ring. One of the doctors pulled the plug out, but the ring in Patton’s ears continued. Virgil was sobbing now, and Logan was crying silently in his hands. Patton's face was dry. He was going to be sick.

He got up quietly, moved to the bathroom in the room, kneeled in front of the toilet, and emptied his breakfast until nothing but liquid came out.

Time went on, but Patton didn't care. Everything was a blur anyways.

His face had been blank in the week before the funeral. He hadn't gone to work since 11:04 AM, hadn't gone since he watched his fiancé die right in front of him. He had simply laid in his too large bed, staring at the ceiling, but not really thinking. He had barely eaten, at most a few bites every day. He couldn't bring himself to eat any more than that, and his appetite was permanently lost anyways. 

The funeral was small (and also the first time Patton had gotten out of his bed for a week. He hadn't showered, hadn't eaten, he had simply gotten dressed into his nice clothes and called Logan to pick him up), and Patton found himself wondering if Roman would have been relieved or disappointed because of the low number. Probably a mixture of both.

It was the first time Patton had seen Remus in a few years, too, and even despite Patton's horrible memory he still remembered Remus being constantly happy, albeit a demented kind of happiness. The Remus in front of him, though, had obviously fared no better than Patton had in this past week, and had probably never felt this much negative emotion in his life. His eyes were red, too, as if they had been crying, but then again, he always looked like that.

The funeral lasted a little more than two hours. Patton stared once more at Roman (or, at least, the box where his corpse laid) and left. He wasn't trying to be rude, he just knew that if he stayed for a moment longer he would have broken down in tears, and he didn't know if his body could stand losing any more liquid. He had barely drank water. That night, he broke down anyway, crying into Virgil's arms as his brother comforted him. He expected to feel better, especially after the extra water. He didn't.

Time went on, as time does.

Like a ghost. That's what his students look like they've seen when he goes back to work the following week. He had barely gotten sleep, he wasn't eating or drinking, and his eyes were red. Regardless, he carried on with the lesson, only tearing up twice. 

He didn't eat lunch, he couldn't. His students were very supportive, and one enby came up to him and said they were sorry for his loss. Patton knew Elliot meant well, but he also now knew what Roman had meant when he said he was scared about the fake pity. Patton said he appreciated it nonetheless. 

Time went on, as time does.

Patton saw Roman's suicide note.

He had been cleaning out ~~their~~ his bookshelf, when his hand brushed against Roman’s notebook. The Venting Journal, as they had both called it. He wondered if there was anything leading up to It, some sort of explanation of _why._ He wanted answers. He wanted proof. He wanted It to have never have happened in the first place. That last one seemed unrealistic.

He opened the book. Roman's scrawlings were still there, and he forces himself to read every word. Trails of _lazy, not good enough, unoriginal,_ are scattered across the pages, but he continues flipping them in a calm frenzy. He ends up at the back. The last page. There are words. They are not written in the same dark print; instead they are calm, organized, accepting. 

_Dearest Patton,_

_I understand that you have probably found this letter after I have had an untimely passing. I feel like it's important to say that I am sorry. I know you are probably hurt by this, and that my leaving will impact you greatly._

_I'm sorry for convincing you that I was worth being loved, I'm sorry for proposing to you when you deserve someone better, I'm sorry for planning my departure for weeks, and I'm sorry that you probably feel like this is your fault. It isn't. It never was. I understand that you will probably be the one to find this letter, and I'm sorry for that, too._

_Do you remember when we danced that first night together? When we swung and swayed without a care in the world? Do you remember our second date? We went to a movie together, a romcom. We loved it. We weren't quite ready to hold hands or kiss yet, but that didn't matter, because I knew. I knew right then and there that you were the one for me._

_And you knew too, didn't you? You probably had boys lining up to go out with you, and yet, you chose me. I know you made the wrong choice, but it feels nice being chosen nonetheless. You were the best thing to ever happen to me. Words will never be able to describe how much I love you, how much happiness you brought me each day of my life. Throughout all my moods, all my failures, all my mistakes, you were there. You were always there. I'm so so sorry I can't be there for you._

_To Virgil, I'm sorry for the hurtful things I have said to you. I know that you probably still hold a grudge for the nicknames, and you should. I was completely awful to you, and I nearly caused you to do something that would have killed you. I wish I could have apologized better in person, but if you're reading this, it's obviously too late for that. I love you, and know that you are my best friend._

_To Logan, I'm sorry for making you feel invalid. I'm sorry for all the times I said mean things, or called you a nickname, or said you were lesser. That was wrong of me, and I've known that for a while, but I was too cowardly to admit it. You, too, are my best friend, and I hope you can take my apology. I love you._

_To Remus, I'm sorry I never tried to make us become closer. I'm sorry for all the pointless bickering I did with you, and I'm sorry for singling you out and thinking your opinions were bad because they were different than mine. Admittedly, they aren't the best ideas, and you're probably going to get yourself arrested one of these days for licking some celebrity’s ear or something, but I'm sorry that I won't be around to see it. I'm sorry for every argument I ever had with you about if I loved you or not, and I'm sorry for saying I didn't, knowing it would hurt you. And hey, there's nothing left for me to lose, so I might as well say it, right? I love you, and you're a great brother. I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you that in person._

_And finally, to Patton, I'm sorry that I left. I'm sorry for all the money of yours I wasted, and I'm sorry for making you believe you loved me. I'm sorry for not talking to you about my feelings even though you desperately wanted me to, and I'm sorry I'm leaving so soon, and so selfishly. That's what I am though, right? Selfish? I've been selfish all my life, so I suppose it's only fitting that I end it the same way._

_I left a video on my phone, if you still have it. The password is 7827 (STAR), and it is the last video. I understand if you do not wish to see it as well, as it is your choice._

_More than anything, I hope you will soon be happy, even if it's without me. I know we said that we would spend the rest of our lives together, and although I didn't get to do it in the way you expected, I'm glad I at least got to spend the rest of mine with you._

_Sincerely, Roman. I love you._

Patton had to stop reading a few times, due to his eyes becoming so blurry with tears he could no longer make out the words on the page. He opened Roman’s phone with the passcode, looking to see the video.

Roman sat there, with his guitar, smiling softly. Patton couldn't help but notice the full, uncapped bottle of pills on the floor next to him, but he tore his eyes away. “I'm guessing that, if you're watching this, you've probably seen the note.” Video-Roman smiled softly. “I'd say sorry, but I've already said it many times and, well, you've probably gotten sick of the word. With that said, I hope you will never get sick of the words ‘I love you’, because they are true, and I do. I will never stop loving you, even when I've… moved onwards. I will love you last the day I die, which just so happens to be today.” Patton cringed at the crude humor.

“Anyways, I decided, ‘What better last message than a song?’ And so… here I am!” With that, video-Roman began strumming some notes on his guitar, before he opened his mouth again. Patton had heard his (late) fiancé sing several times before, but this time, his voice was a haunting melody, even if it was a heartwarming song. It was possibly because the person singing it was, in the video, going to commit suicide by overdosing in less than five minutes. _“And I’ve lost, who I am, and I can't understand why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love without. Love gone wrong, life less words, we carry on. But I know, all I know is that the end’s beginning-”_

Patton knew Roman was a lot of things. Roman had stood out a lot in his short life. When he died, Patton expected that to be it. Curtain call, The End, the school bell ringing for summer. But he saw Roman in his life around him too, even just in this room. Even after he died (and God, that would always hurt to think).

_“-who I am, from the start-”_

In the red painting on the wall.

_“-take me home, to my heart-”_

In the blankets on the bed.

_“-let me go, and I will run. I will not be silent-”_

In the story ideas in a folder.

_“-all this time, spent in vain-”_

In the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

_“-wasted years, wasted gain-”_

In the sun shining through the window.

_“-all is lost, hope remains. And this war’s not over-”_

In the drapes on the wall.

_“-there's a light, there's a sun-”_

In the bright smiles on a student’s face.

_“-taking over the shattered ones-”_

In the actors, the writers, the people he loves.

_“-to the place we belong, and his love will conquer all.”_

In himself.

Video-Roman repeated the chorus, before he smiled again. Patton realized with a lurch of his empty stomach that it was probably the last time Roman ever got to smile. Video-Roman turned off the camera, and Patton knew what happened next. He wished he didn't.

The video didn't heal him like he thought it would, but it gave him something to cling onto. He, at least, realized how hungry he was, and got a full meal for the first time in almost a month. He made a sandwich. It was a start.

Patton refused to listen to any other song for a month. He didn't turn on the radio, he didn't go out that much to restaurants, and he didn't listen to any humming unless it was of that song. Unfortunately, _Shattered_ was a pretty rare song to hear anywhere, so he smashed his radio in a fit of rage. Afterwards, he buried his face in a pillow and sobbed helplessly into it. After another few weeks, he listened to the video one more time, cried, and was able to listen to music that wasn't Roman’s voice again.

Time went on, as time does.

Patton still has his moments. The moments where he will cry and sob and desperately wish for Roman to come back, to see him one last time, to tell him how much he loves him. 

He visits his grave every day, no matter how much traffic there is. The flowers he leaves once a week are always the best he could find, with a multitude of colors, varying on the week prior. Some days, they are blue, the colorings of tears and sky and the blankets on his new twin bed (the other one always felt too big). Some days, they are indigo, the hues of book binders and the ocean and space. Some days, the are purple, the colors of candies and paintings and, in some rare cases, lighting. Still others, they are green, yellow, orange, but those are more uncommon.

Most days, however, they are simply red: the pigment of love and broken hearts and Roman. Each day, they are roses, no matter how high the supply and demand is, no matter the cost of them.

After all, roses were Roman's favorite flowers, and Patton dethorns them every single week before stopping by his resting place.

Patton still has his moments. One time, Virgil had been on a very high cliff overlooking the city, and had nearly broken down. Virgil realized then what it must have looked like, memories of a darker time flooding back to him. He hugged his older brother, consoling and comforting him, even when he himself was crying. Logan found them nearly two hours later (the two had been hiking, and Logan promised to pick them up) in the same spot. It was nearly sunset. He said nothing, just gathered them up in his arms and hugged them. His face was wet by the end of the night, too, and Patton decided to stay at their house. He wasn't able to sleep alone that night. They had a slumber party in the living room.

Another time, the brothers had been playing a video game. Mario Kart, or something like that. Patton doesn't remember. Virgil had lost, and had jokingly said “Ugh, I'm going to kill myse-” He stopped before he finished, but the damage had been done. He cringed at Patton’s look of horror, and quickly made sure he wouldn't make any more jokes like that. The next time he died in some sort of game, or was mildly inconvenienced, he made sure to say “I'm going to throw myself into the sun,” or something like that. Patton appreciates it.

Patton still has his moments. He had texted Roman’s number one day, not knowing if it even existed anymore.

_Hey, Roman. It's me. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry._

_I know that before, you were the one apologizing even if you had no reason to. But now I'm doing it, so you better listen. I know you wouldn't want me to blame myself, but I can't help it._

_I'm sorry that I waited for you to get better on your own. I knew you were hurting, and I didn't help. I should have. I should have tried harder to help you get better. You said I was always there for you, but you were wrong. I wasn't there when you needed me most, and I can never stop apologizing for that._

_I'm sorry that I didn't say how much I love you enough. I still do love you. You wanted me to move on, to find someone who makes me happy, but you made me happy. I wish I could have told you before it was too late._

_I'm sorry that I didn't appreciate you like I should have. I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I care until you were gone. I'm sorry you felt like you didn't deserve love, and I'm sorry you're gone. I will never stop being sorry, just like I will never stop loving you._

He cried again that night, and knew instantly that the house was too empty. Surprising himself, he called Remus’s number and asked if he could stay the night. He seemed confused, but after Patton explained what happened he agreed after a few moments’ hesitation. His house was disgusting, and all things considered, it wasn't surprising that he couldn't keep roommates for more than a week. Trash was littered on the ground, the desks were cluttered, boxes were unopened (Remus had lived there for nearly five years), and there were at least ten different scents of deodorant in the smelly bathroom. It was better than an empty house, though. 

“I wish I could have gotten to be his best man, really.” Said Remus the next morning. It's the most sincerity Patton had heard from him in his life. “I would have given you guys a bouquet of trash and whoever caught it would be the next person to be murdered!”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Patton dug around in his pocket for a piece of Roman’s note. He had given the torn parts to Logan and Virgil, but never had a chance to give it to Remus. He would have texted him, but he wasn't sure if he wanted Remus knowing his number. All that went out the window last night, apparently. “Here,” he said, putting the paper in Remus hand. “This is from Roman.” Saying his name didn't fill Patton with the stab of pain it normally did, although there was a slight twinge of sorrow. He could see Remus perk up at the thought of his brother giving him something, but he clearly tried to hide it. They said their goodbyes, but it felt liberating to talk to the one person who knew Roman as well as Patton knew him.

Remus texted him later that night, with a simple _thank you,_ probably the most simple sentence he's ever said. Patton responded with an even simpler _you're welcome._

Patton continues to text Roman’s old number nearly every day, saying things like _“I started going to therapy with Doctor Picani on weekends, how funny is that? I feel a little better getting everything out there.”_ and _“We went to lunch at your favorite burger restaurant today. Logan got a vegetable patty, obviously. I couldn't stop thinking about you, but it didn't hurt as much as it normally does. I still miss you.”_

He nearly has a heart attack when he receives a text back. 

_Hey gurl, you've been texting this number for a while. First of all, I want to say that I'm sorry for the loss you have suffered, whether it be a bad breakup or death or whatever. Second of all, unless you plan on hanging out in a Starbucks, then you may want to stop, since you seem kinda addicted._

They plan a hang out in a Starbucks. The number’s name, apparently, is Remy, who lives a little out of town. They’re an okay guy, and Patton plans another hang out with them. It’s… nice, meeting a new friend, he hasn't done that in a while.

Patton adopts a son about three years after Roman’s death.

He and Roman had discussed adopting a few months before their engagement, and they had agreed that at one point, they would. After he died though, Patton wasn't sure if he was ready to adopt a child without his lover by his side.

However, once he sees the bright faces of children, all that goes out the window.

One boy in particular sticks out to him. Thomas Sanders. Thomas is almost like a mix of Roman and Patton, he's the perfect fit for the house, and he's also nice. Patton walks up to him one day, seeing the boy drawing.

“What are you drawing, kiddo?” He asks.

“A prince.” Is the reply, with an added “he can fly. That's why the background is blue.”

A little over a month later, he now has a new seven-year-old son. He doesn't make him change his name to Thomas Hues, though. Sanders is a wonderful surname, and besides, Patton has never been one to agree with forcing someone to change their name to make someone else happy. Thomas gets along with his friends pretty well (although Virgil scared him at first, and he's still pretty terrified of Remus, even if it's for good reason) and soon enough, he's in school and Patton has a son. He has a son. Would he ever get used to that?

He loves him more than anything, and if Thomas ever feels bad, he will not make the same mistake twice.

Patton still has his moments, and he probably always will. But those moments are getting less and less frequent as he moves on. He doesn't forget, though. He doesn't know how anyone could forget Roman’s ideas, his smiles, his kindness. His talents. No one could ever forget Roman. He simply has a way of crawling into your heart and making a home, and in Patton’s, he will always be welcome there.

Some days are better than others. Sometimes Patton can make fluffy pancakes for breakfast with whipped cream and strawberries without any trouble. Sometimes he can bounce out of bed with a spring in his step and be happy. Sometimes he can hang out with his friends without wondering when they'll die.

Other days, he's not so lucky. Sometimes he'll wake up clutching his covers so tightly his fingers are paper white. Sometimes he’ll simply stare at the Bisquick box and be reminded of February 21, 11:04 AM. Sometimes he’ll hug Thomas tightly and refuse to let go, as if when he lets go they will be ripped apart forever.

But then he remembers, it's not Tuesday. It's Monday morning, 8:07 AM, September 1, and they're running late. And none of his family will die, because they're safe.

He has his family. They're certainly not the cookie cutter family one may expect, but they're family nonetheless. And he loves them more than words can say. He will never stop loving them. No matter what.

So he works, and he teaches, and he cries, and he loves.

And suddenly Patton’s welcoming the freshmen class in for art, and they meet in school. He hopes the freshmen get along, but can't help but notice a pair of boys (one a poster child for emo-ness, and one incredibly dramatic)... not, getting along.

He helps them sort it out. The pair becomes good friends with each other. He smiles at them as they talk during breaks.

And through it all, time goes on. Like it always does, and always will.

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing diverse sides, so Patton and Virgil are white, Logan is Indian, Roman (and by extension, Remus) is Italian, and Deceit (in this fic, Dante) is Italian/Indian mixed.
> 
> Anyways, I wasn't kidding when I said that if you feel the way Roman does, you should get some help. Speak to a therapist or another professional and I wish you the best of luck. Please, I want you to be as happy as you can be, because despite what those ugly little thoughts in your head are saying as they try to destroy you, you are loved and deserve to be loved. Don't reject it. Anyone and everyone deserves to be loved, including you, including your family, and (this is harder to say than it needs to be) including me. I'm there for you, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.
> 
> Also, if you see a typo in this, drag me. I give you permission. You also have permission to scream at me in the comments, it feeds my self esteem faster than a three course meal ever could.
> 
> The song used in the title and video is called 'Shattered', and it's amazing. I recommend giving it a listen, definitely worth it.
> 
> As always, stay safe, and remember that you are cared for, and that you deserve to be cared for.


End file.
